This is me. I'm sitting in a department store, tired of shopping for other people's men (my father and my sister's boyfriend) especially since I don't have a man to shop for dangit. I'm wearing no makeup, a Beatles shirt, and a beanie that I crocheted in two hours. A man off camera is looking at me strangely.
I noticed that these hip-looking young men are actually the same person. I discussed it at length with the mother and 26.
Someone decorated this Charlie Brown tree on the side of the road in my town.
Our family bonfire. We roasted plastic.
December 24th
Fact: I make at least one bloody Santa and/or reindeer cookie every year. I am not a sociopath.
Symbols for all the things I love (music, musical instruments, a cross, some stick people, a cat, troll face, DFTBA) on one delicious cookie.
I didn't give it enough chin.
NAILED IT
This is a minimalistic interpretation of a delightfully, but grotesquely unorthodox Santa. If I may venture to suggest that it is not too much of a crudity to assign semi-concrete meaning to the symbolism found herein; a lovely string of saliva, a green Hitler mustache, bleeding eye sockets, and a unibrow are all vaguely represented. The features on Santa are small and insignificant, but then, what is life? What are we?
I ate them all, starting with Existential Santa.
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